LINES ON THE DEPARTURE OF EMIGRANTS FOR NEW SOUTH WALES.
BY T. CAMPBELL.
On England's shore I saw a pensive hand,
With sails unfurl'd for earth's remotest strand,
Like children parting from a mother, shed
Tears for the home that could not yield them bread;
Grief mark'd each face receding from the view,
'Twas grief to nature honourably true.
And long, poor wand'rers o'er th' ecliptic deep,